f Lettice's innocence, her
"stupid" trust, he had brought her to this ruinous pass. It hadn't been
necessary.

The window was open, and a breath of early summer drifted in--a breath of
palpable sweetness. Mrs. Caley entered and bent over the bed, an angular,
black silhouette against the white. She left without a word.

If Lettice died he, Gordon Makimmon, would have killed her, he had killed
more ... he recognized that clearly. The knowledge spread through him like
a virus, thinning his blood, attacking his brain, his nerves. He lifted a
shaking hand to wipe his brow; and, for a brief space, his arm remained in
air; it looked as though he were gazing beneath a shielding palm at a far
prospect. The arm dropped suddenly to his side, the fingers struck dully
against the chair. He heard again the muffled beat of horse's hoofs on
the road above; the sun moved slowly over the narrow, gay strips of rag
carpet on the floor: life went on elsewhere.

His fear changed to loathing, to absolute, sick repulsion from all the
facts of his existence. With the passing minutes the lines deepened on his
haggard countenance, his expression perceptibly aged. The stubble of beard
that had grown since the day before grizzled his lean jaw; the confident
line of his shoulders, of his back, was bowed.

He looked up with a start to find the doctor once more in the room. He
rose. "Doc," he asked in a strained whisper, "Doc, will it be all right?"
He wet his lips. "Will she live?"

"You needn't whisper," the other told him; "she doesn't know ... now.
'Will she live?' I can only tell you that she wanted to die a thousand
times."

Gordon turned away, looking out through the window. It gave upon the slope
planted with corn; the vivid, green shoots everywhere pushed through the
chocolate-colored soil; chickens were vigorously scratching in a corner.
The shadow of the west range reached down and enfolded the Makimmon
dwelling; the sky burned in a sulphur-yellow flame. When he turned the
doctor had vanished, the room had grown dusky. He resumed his seat.

"I didn't do right," he acknowledged to the travesty on the bed; "there
was a good bit I didn't get the hang of. It seems like I hadn't learned
anything at all from being alive. I'm going to fix it up," he proceeded,
painfully earnest. "I'm--" He broke off suddenly at the stabbing memory of
the doctor's words, "She wanted to die a thousand times." He thought, I've
killed her a thousand times alrea